Justice
by Loise
Summary: What does a bucket of raw fish heads, the Preventer HQ, a temp tattoo and the negatives of a holiday in the Bahamas have to do with a male strip club?


_Justice_

* * *

There are times in life when a person must never stand down of their beliefs. The stones have to be upturned no matter the consequences, however harsh and cruel. This must continue because without people standing up for they truly believe in, truth and justice, the very foundations that we depend on will crumble beneath out feet. Every person sacrifices for this ideal, and offerings must be made daily, for the better and the whole of humanity. 

For Quatre, Trowa, Zechs and Trieze, this was not to be so. This day they were to fall to their knees and beg, yes beg, for forgiveness. They had been very disobedient and some things just cannot be taken for granted.

This of course included strip clubs, male strip clubs that is, and the dreadful concept of _visiting_ a male strip club.

Though, Quatre mused, there probably wouldn't have been an argument or any need for punishment if they had invited Dorothy and Noin.

Then again, he thought as a frown crossed his pretty face, Trowa didn't have to open his big mouth and gab. Traitor.

Nodding, Quatre turned his gaze to a pair of submissive males. It was, reckoned Quatre, due to their strenuous military training. After all there is only so much marching a man or woman can do, and long nights await, the commanders had to find something for the men and women to do.

Noting a small smile lighting Trieze's lips, Quatre then realized that as a commander in the OZ forces and one high up too, Trieze would have been very diligent in providing his faithful, loyal and above all very flexible men and women something to do after hours.

It was the right thing to do, Quatre acknowledged.

Next to Quatre, Trowa was awaiting his punishment with terror. No scratch that, it wasn't terror, but eagerness. Whoopsie, a slip of the tongue, one of many of the tongue actions yet to come.

A slip of the tongue indeed, that Trowa had managed. More like a slip of sending two carefully sent and written letters to two women and then with a flourish he had signed his name. And of course, to be exact and to show the awful truth, Trowa had enclosed pictures of that fateful night.

Ah, it had been a masterminded plan to prevent security slip ups by planting cameras in the Preventer's HQ including the small room that Water and Wind shared, as well as the office where Dorothy worked as one of best criminal lawyers in a century. She had edge that others dared not contest. The fact that she had a tattoo of her inner wrist of the number if the people she had killed only frightened the willies of the old, white men in power. It didn't help that the number changed occasionally.

The shame and scandal of the century, Trowa had known that Quatre would be very pissy the next day so he simply had to swoop Quatre away from a board meeting, not that he had met much resistance, and take Quatre to be laid.

Really, Trowa thought, he was ashamed of what he had done, so much that would have to make it up to Quatre with lots of sex. Trowa sighed softly, it was a pity. Truly.

What Trowa would never guess that he had some unexpected help from the person kneeling beside him. Trieze had seen the Barton boy snap some incriminating photos that night where they all acted dastardly.

It was not hard to steal the letters from the post office. One of the women who worked there, looking tired and stressed from the shittiest job in the world, so she told him, the wage was under crap and the hours were something unmentionable, had also been a former OZ officer. She had recognized Trieze, and after fainting, waking up and seeing Trieze again, then fainting again and finally returning to her full mind.

Sometimes it was a bother when people sighted him. It was terrible being officially dead, through really, everyone now knew that he was alive, it was thought better just to leave Trieze under the rug, like dust. Trieze would have minded, but with him were Noin and Zechs and well, that took the sting off delightfully.

The woman eagerly gave him back the letters. Trieze had promised her a job at WEI, it was the least he could do, Trieze thought and he knew that Quatre would agree, if Trieze agreed to return the negatives of a certain holiday in the Bahamas... It was simply remarkable what people could do these day with a beach umbrella, a piece of string and a pineapple.

He had steamed the letters open, read them, stared at the photos for ten minutes, the retreated to his room for another ten, under locked doors, before deciding to resend the letter, only he would be personally delivering them. It was the least he could do.

Zechs had known Noin longer than anyone alive, as having been a witness to the destruction of her entire family by the Federation. Having lived in an attic for all of her short life, imprisoned by her mad scientist family, Noin had been very upbeat about the situation. To this day, Zechs could not stop her from eating a bucket of raw fish heads on the anniversary of their deaths. Thus, he knew her better than anyone.

Of course, he knew what _that look_ meant. It meant that there was going to be hell to be paid, then followed by the sweet release of heaven after suffering the tragedy of purgatory. Bible talk, oddly enough, was a big turn on for Noin, Zechs had never dared to ask _why_. After all, he liked his balls where they were, of if the occasion was merited in the mouth of someone and if he still wanted to keep them that person had better be Trieze or Noin.

Feh, he thought, then wondered if it was sane to make sounds in your head. Shrugging, Zechs continued with his train of thought... Which he had forgotten.

It was then that Dorothy and Noin entered. They both were smiling, little smiles all women learn to bear after repeatedly seeing the stupidly of males, it was a sight that Zechs knew especially well. Trieze on moments had sent them in his direction. Now... _that_ raised some interesting thoughts.

The whip cracked over the four young men's heads. Noin wielded with dexerity and accuracy, she had once admitted to a bemused Trowa that she had entered a rodeo, and won. Admittedly that could have been the spray on cowgirl outfit she had been wearing, but she refused to mention that. Trieze through, kept a photo in his wallet.

Dorothy was pulling Quatre up be a slim silver coated necklace, what they all knew, was that it was made out of Gundamium and was virtually unbreakable. She then drew him into a deep kiss that involved the heavy use of tongues in action.

Trowa felt this unfair that Quatre got to be punished first when was the one who tattled. So he decided that fondling her breasts was the first thing he had to do, to get into her good graces. It was right and proper, yes... of dear god!

Trieze admired the pashing blond's for a moment before noticing with a similar feeling that Trowa had experienced, that Noin was molesting Zechs. He genuinely felt put out. Until that was, he started to find new places and ways to kiss up Noin's spine. She simply had a delightful way of shuddering.

All the bad boys were punished and Noin and Dorothy felt very happy that they had done the right and honourable thing. It was the only way that peace and justice would continue.

* * *

"Pass me the popcorn please, Duo? I'm famished, being the Vice Foreign Minister has it kicks, but sometimes thsoe kicks interfere with my lunch hour." Relena stretched out over Heero, her feet slipping between Wufei's thighs, he gave them absent rub before leaping off the couch and fiddling with the DVD player.

"Here, babe," Duo grinned in sympathy.

"So what are watching tonight, Wufei?" Heero asked, combing a hand through Relena's hair as Duo passed the popcorn and then kissed Heero on his cheek.

"Oh, just something Trowa sent to us. It's a home video of Quatre, Dorothy, Zechs, Trieze and Noin. It's labelled 'Juctice', he said in his letter that I might be interested." The screen flickered into life and Wufei shuffled back into Duo's embrace.

This led to an interesting _four hours_ of 'justice'.

* * *

AN: I think Trowa's going to have to be punished again... He's going to drag the rest down with him... he's a bad boy. This was written for a friend, for her birthday. 

The raw fish heads are inspired by the Simpsons, particulary the episode where Bart had a brother in the attic who ate raw fish heads. Yes, Noin... Beware the OOCs...

Disclaimer: No, I don't own GW


End file.
